


Airhead

by meltinglacier



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Dark, Emotional Repression, Gen, POV Female Character, Present Tense, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltinglacier/pseuds/meltinglacier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ty Lee is a good not-thinker. She ignores thoughts that she shouldn't have. Instead, she thinks about how wonderful her life is. How nice Azula is and how lucky she is to have such a good friend. She thinks about how she made the right choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airhead

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially two stories that I wrote, then mixed into one, so there are two main ideas in it. I guess it could be considered a sister fic to my other story "Her Choice," because it deals with that moment in time where Ty Lee has to make a decision and her actions can potentially change the course of the show.
> 
> Cross posted to ff.net.

Ty Lee is going to see the Avatar. Not because she's curious or wants to know more about the feeling inside of her, certainly not. She just wants to see him to…gloat or something, like a good Fire Nation citizen.

Or rather, a good Fire Nation  _hero_. Because that's what she is. She's been lauded for her part in the war, one of the key people to have taken out the rebel scum that dared defy the Fire Nation.

She giggles – kinda hysterically, if she's being honest, but the Yu Yan Archers escorting her ignore that – and it echoes in the dank tunnel that's pressing down on her. She's walking down steps, deep underground while stone walls close in on all sides.

Actually, she's not sure why she has come here, but she knows that it definitely doesn't have to do with his status as the last Airbender.

He's lying on his back, spread-eagled and chained to the floor, shirtless. His hands and feet are tied so that he can't so much as twitch them. Ty Lee can count his ribs. There are guards watching him unblinkingly, ready to release a stream of fire at him if he shows the slightest hint of trying to escape.

Ty Lee knows that he never will. He's going to rot in this dank prison. His skin will turn sickly pale and his muscles will waste away. His aura slithers weakly through the air, already a sickly rust-yellow-green-brown that triggers her gag reflex and makes her throat spasm for a moment. Hopefully the guards will think that her loss of control is just disgust at seeing the greatest enemy of the Fire Nation.

He looks up at her. What she sees in his eyes stuns her. Understanding. Compassion. Kinship.

He can't move, can't Bend. He will never see the sun again, never feel gentle breezes. He has every right to be angry. He should be bitter, but he's not. Azula has told her of the Air Nomads, what they don't teach in school: how weak they were,  _peaceful_. He grew up with such people, in a place where he belonged, people just like him, never dreaming that the Fire Nation would slaughter them – no, not slaughter, cleanse the world of their trash.

"Can you take the gag off for a minute?" she asks.

The guards don't look too happy about that. She understands; imagine the amount of damage that he could do with a good lungful of air. They do it anyway. Ty Lee can almost see Azula's presence hovering behind her. Certainly, the guards can picture her there. Everyone knows about the stranglehold that the princess has on her.

The Avatar works his jaw a few times, then speaks. "Are they alive?" his voice is a rough rasp, hoarse from disuse.

Ty Lee is surprised; surely Azula had told him, taunted him. After all, false hope is one of the cruelest things to offer a prisoner. She doesn't know what to say. So she nods.

He stares at her for a long moment, the colors around him fluctuating. She wonders if he can see her lie. She's heard that some Airbenders could see lies in the air around people. Like auras. But not. Definitely not.

Finally, he sighs. "Good."

He seems to accept her answer. She wonders if he has forced himself to believe her. She's not sure which one is worse.

How would he react, if he knew that they were all dead? What would he think of her, if he knew that it was her hands that had jabbed his Watertribe girl over and over again until she stopped moving? She stops that line of thought.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

She hesitates. She's not completely sure herself. All she knows is that Azula isn't here, and she seized the chance to talk to the Avatar before she knew what she was doing. Of course, this meeting will be reported to Azula, as will everything she says. She doesn't know what possessed her to come to this place. This was a stupid idea anyway. Stupid Ty Lee, airhead, doesn't think before she makes decisions –

"Nevermind. I know why."

"You do?" Her voice quivers, and she curses herself.

"Yeah. And all I can say," here, he gives a meaningful glance at the guards, "is that you've got to let go of it."

"W-what?"

"Let go. Keeping it bunched up in your chest isn't going to change anything. It's there, and it's not going to go away."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," she says stiffly. She has an inkling, but she pushes that thought out of her mind. She's not supposed to think about things like that.

"You do. Remember your childhood. Remember the dreams. The feeling. And then let it go."

She knows. She remembers. She can still feel the weightless ecstasy of her dreams, floating on a breeze, soaring in the wind – she stops thinking about it. She's loyal to her country, and to Azula. So she doesn't think those kinds of thoughts.

But she can't help it. That is why a week later, Ty Lee stands in the empty ring of the Fire Nation Circus.

Everything is exactly how she left it. Nothing has changed.

Neither has she. She's still the same on the inside. She's still happy and content. It has taken her superb feats of mental avoidance, but she's no less happy than she was a year ago.

Ty Lee is a master at not thinking.

That doesn't mean that she's stupid, although Azula would disagree. And of course, Ty Lee would have to agree with Azula there, because she's her friend, and Ty Lee is always loyal. Ty Lee never rebels.

("Airhead," Azula would sneer if she were here in the ring with her. And isn't that _so ironic_  – stop. Don't go there.)

That is how she's a not thinker. She ignores thoughts that she shouldn't have, disloyal thoughts, painful thoughts. Instead, she thinks about how wonderful her life is. How nice Azula is and how lucky she is to have such a good friend. She thinks about how she made the right choice. She thinks about boys and her new future.

She doesn't think about the past, about the friends that she had and the choices she made. She doesn't think about the consequences that arose from that.

She doesn't think about things like cowardice and morals, because if she doesn't think about them, then she doesn't have to make decisions. Doesn't have to risk making the wrong choice.

_You already did._

"It was the right choice," she says defiantly. Her voice echoes through the tent, and she realizes that she is completely alone. The seats are empty and Azula isn't here.

The Earth Kingdom is ready to surrender. There are only a few rebel factions to be weeded out. It has fallen to Azula to ensure the surrender of the Earth Kingdom. Azula has important business in New Ozai, so she has left Ty Lee all alone again.

She walks to the pole leading up to the tight rope.

She wonders how the negotiations are going. She wonders if the rebels have agreed to surrender. She wonders if they haven't.

She worries her lip with her teeth. If they haven't, then Ty Lee knows what Azula's going to do. She's going to extend two fingers on each hand and tuck them close to her. Lightning is going to crackle around them and she's going to –

White-hot pain knifes through her thoughts. She has bitten though her lip. Blood trickles down her chin. She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth roughly, ignoring the pain it causes.

With the burning pain comes a flash of clarity. She wants to ignore it, push it back into the depths of her mind, but she can't help but focus on the stinging in her lip. The thought worms its way past her mental barriers.

Azula isn't here right now.

Hooked tethers sink into her mind and she follows the idea to its conclusion. Azula isn't here, she's alone, and she can finally address the shadow that's been looming over her since –

She doesn't think that thought. She can't. She won't.

But she  _can_  use the trapeze. It's been so long since she's been able to just let go and soar through the air. She lifts her chin a notch and starts climbing.

She's Azula's friend, but she's still an acrobat. A performer.

She puts on a performance everyday for the people around her. Each smile is perfectly coordinated, each giggle designed to put them at ease. She may have traded one routine for another, but at her heart, she's still a performer.

She's a circus freak.

She smiles humorlessly at the memories that those words bring up. She's long since passed the time when those words would have hurt her. There's a wound on her heart far worse than any petty words could cause.

She ignores that thought and climbs up the pole, quickly and nimbly. Her toes and fingers remember each rung. At the top, she lets her fingers run over familiar groves and ridges.

Ty Lee grasps the metal bar in her hands, then hesitates. There's no safety net waiting to catch her. If she falls, she will hit the ground hard and splatter, then there will be an awful mess that Azula won't be happy about.

She decides that she doesn't care.

She swoops, down then up. Letting go, she flies for a brief moment before grabbing onto the next bar. She reverses her direction.

Flipping and diving, she flies through the air. Wind caresses her face. She can hear the low murmur of a crowd that isn't there.

She tucks into a tight ball and flips. The circus spins around her and her braid comes undone. Brown hair streams around her, whipping at her cheeks and covering her vision with streaks of brown.

She's free. She's flying high above the world, while the wind dances in her hair. She's untouchable.

This thought gives her the courage to finally face her demons. Her body automatically keeps swinging and turning as her mind is pulled back into a memory so vivid it's as if she's right there.

_("You should have feared me more!"_

_And Ty Lee does nothing. Crackle. Burn.)_

The world is a blur of color. She lets go of the bar.

Too early.

She can tell as soon as she releases it.

Now she's soaring through empty space while the crowd cheers her on, rising higher. She stretches out her arm. Her fingers brush against cool metal. Silence falls.

And so does she.

There's a roaring in her ears and the air is rushing around her and if only she could –

She's not thinking about that but the ground is rising up fast and she doesn't want to die.

No one's coming to save her even though she's tried her best not to think traitorous thoughts about the skies.

A yearning opens inside her and so does something deeply hidden and powerful. She tries to grasp at it and the ground is so close and then –


End file.
